Star Warring Across the Universe Part I
by Romantic Pessimist
Summary: In Which There Is Drinking - escape pods, swoop gangs, and prissy Jedi.
1. The Scout

The Scout

Jay Robyn walked up to the robot behind the desk, grumbling mentally. Couldn't the Jedi and the Sith fight amongst themselves without pulling her into it?

"Identification, please," the droid intoned.

She recited the rank and number that had been assigned to her and the droid directed her to a nearby hangar, where a pair of guards asked for her name and number before letting her continue. The shuttle inside was nothing special, just another military transport. She mounted the ramp, finding several soldiers chatting and playing pazaak, and settled into a corner of the shuttle to listen to the conversation.

"I heard that a Jedi was coming on the Spire."

"Really? Man, the Sith better watch out for us. We'll kick their butts."

"Grow up, Ando. Jedi are nothing but trouble."

"You're just sore because I've beaten you three times in a row."

"Does anyone know who the C.O. is?"

"I do! Captain Onasi, the best pilot in the fleet. With him and that Jedi, we'll send the Sith packing."

"Ando, shut up."

Jay rolled her eyes. She doubted any of these soldiers had ever been in battle. They certainly looked green enough; she could still see the creases in their garish red uniforms. In contrast her black trousers were fraying at the hem from wear, her brown pocket-covered vest barely concealed the beginning holes in her shirt.

More men and women flooded the shuttle, and she blocked out the noise, closing her eyes and drifting into a semi-conscious doze. The ship vibrated softly as it took off, and Jay repositioned herself so she could watch the scenery from the porthole, waiting for a glimpse of stars.

"Hey."

Jay turned to the young man that sat next to her. He smiled anxiously. "Reki Celtru."

She shook his hand. "Jay. First time away from home?"

"Yeah. I'm nervous."

"Don't worry. From what I've heard, this is a shake-down cruise. We shouldn't run into Sith." The lie tasted strange in her mouth, but she knew what fear could do to freshly drafted soldiers. She remembered what it had done to her.

"Oh." He sounded relieved. "I heard we were escorting Jedi, so I got nervous."

"Lower deck scuttlebutt, hardly ever true." Jay glanced out the window, sighing at the view of a Republic assault ship. "I was really hoping to never see one of those again."

The transport shuttle settled into the hangar bay with a lurch and the recruits rose, grabbing their duffels and pouring out of the shuttle, creating a flood of red uniforms. Jay gave her surroundings a twice-over (only idiots give a once-over) and blinked in surprise when she spotted a trio of robed women, speaking with an officer. There _were_ Jedi aboard. So much for a shake-down cruise.

A sharp whistle brought her attention to a sergeant standing amongst a group of fawning noncoms. His expression utterly gave away his nature – vulgar and perverted.

"Jeez, even out here you get lechers," Reki muttered crossly.

"Just ignore them," she ordered gently. "They're not worth the trouble. Or the therapy."

The sergeant sauntered up, a smug smirk painted across his face. "Hey, babe! Why don't you ditch Twitchy and come hang with a real soldier?"

Jay rolled her eyes. "Pass."

"Don't be like that, babe," the sergeant begged as his hand moved toward her waist.

She slapped his hand away absently. "Pass."

"I'm better than I look."

"Pass."

He swore and lifted his hand, suddenly falling backwards as her palm struck his nose. His comrades dashed to his aid, scowling at her as they hauled him away. She turned to see Reki gaping. "What?"

"Nice hit."

Jay smiled. "Thanks."

A few minutes later, the ragged outfit stood at attention as the commanding officers entered and a drill sergeant gave them their assigned bunks. Jay was pleasantly surprised that she and Reki were bunk mates and listened patiently as he droned on about his family and friends. Still a part of her squirmed with dread at the thought that combat would strike them like a swoop bike crash.

/

Sirens blared in her ears; with a grumble she yanked the blanket over her head. "Few more minutes…"

Her reply – several resounding explosions – knocked her out of bed. Swearing and rubbing her rump, Jay wondered where in the galaxy she was. Then she remembered. The Republic ship Endar Spire, which was currently under fire.

_Well, it's a good thing I've a habit of sleeping in my clothes._

She scrambled to her feet, blaster practically flying into her hand as Sith fighters flew past the window, and just about shot off Reki's head as he charged into the room. He didn't seem to notice. "We're under attack!"

"Noticed that, did you?" She quickly double-checked her belt. Blasters holstered, knife sheathed, medpacs in her pouch: good to go. "Got a plan?"

"We need to get to the bridge and defend the Jedi!"

Jay's reply was rife with skepticism. "Jedi can defend themselves, yunno." But she followed him anyway.

They were attacked by silver-plated soldiers the moment they stepped in the hall. Reki ducked behind a canister, his small frame making this possible. "Sith! They must have followed me!"

Sith. Bad.

Jay threw a frag grenade at the soldier's feet, the resounding explosion leaving scattered bodies and a round char mark. With a smile, Jay pulled out her blaster and they headed for the bridge.

The path was long and Sith lurked round every corner; she removed them with the same finesse as before. Reki would try to help now and again, but he was more of a hindrance than a help, popping out of his hiding place into Jay's line of fire or almost catching grenades with his lap.

They didn't find many allies alive. Most were killed before they got there, or right when they arrived. Jay bit her tongue to suppress a curse when they came across a dead Jedi, scored by a console that had overloaded thanks to the constant bombardment.

When they finally did reach the bridge, it was deserted save the liberal sprinkling of bodies. Outside, Sith fighters screamed past, green bolts darting across the inky canvas of space.

Reki frowned, stymied for a moment. "The Jedi must've gone to the escape pods. Let's go."

"Now you make sense," Jay joked.

His laughter died prematurely at the sound of a lightsaber; they both turned to see a man standing in the room behind them, as if waiting for them to charge. In his hand was a lightsaber, its energy blade a dark red.

Dark Jedi. Frak.

Jay unconsciously reached for the knife at her belt, but Reki had already stepped forward. "Reki, what-"

His tone was firm, as though he had been waiting for that moment. "I'll hold him off. You get to the escape pods."

"No!" She ran forward, but the door slammed shut in her face. Cursing chivalry, she pounded the sturdy metal once before heading to the escape pods. Her flight was surprisingly uneventful. No enemies or allies, just bodies and wreckage. That could only mean that the Endar Spire was about to fall apart, and Jay picked up the pace.

A lone soldier was waiting at her destination, looking panicked yet determined. "C'mon, we don't have much time!"

Jay jumped into the nearest pod. He followed, closed the door, and hit the eject switch. The pod rocketed towards the planet below, skidding on roof tops and scorching walls until it crashed.


	2. Taris

Taris

The field was cold and dark, the air filled with explosions and blaster fire. All around her soldiers rushed into battle, rushed to their deaths.

_Stop…no, don't…please…STOP!_

She jerked upright, her forehead slamming into something quite solid with a painful crack. The words that flowed from her mouth as she fell backwards into a pillow, clutching her head, were absolutely unprintable.

"You have a foul mouth," a masculine voice grumbled, and she cracked one eye open to see an unshaven soldier in an orange flight jacket rubbing his forehead.

"And you have a hard head," she retorted with a scowl. "Sithspit, that _hurt_!"

"Agreed. Still, it's good to see you awake instead of thrashing about in your sleep. You must've been having one heck of a nightmare. You've been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past couple days," he continued as he fetched a glass of water from the nearby table. "I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."

Jay took the offered water and gulped it down. "What happened? Where are we?"

"Uppercity Taris. We crashed nearby. You were knocked out, hit your head on the console."

"That explains the drunken rave party in my skull."

He chuckled. "Luckily I wasn't hurt. I managed to get us away from the crash site before the Sith showed up, stumbled into this abandoned apartment."

Abandoned was a good description, Jay decided as she glanced about. Grime covered the few pieces of furniture; light from the window reflected off of the dust in the air. In all truth, it wasn't that bad. "Thanks for not leaving me behind."

"I've never left a soldier behind, and I'm not about to start now."

Jay stood, grimacing a little, and shook his hand. "Jay Robyn."

"Carth Onasi."

_Crap,_ she thought. _An officer._ "As in Captain Onasi?"

"Forget the ranks, we're pretty much all that's left of the crew of the Endar Spire."

Jay smiled. "Any food around here?"

"No, you weren't exactly in any condition to leave alone for long."

She felt her face heat up and quickly turned to the window. She hated having people take care of her. "So what's the plan?"

"Some of the pods might have landed in the Under City. We survived, so there's a chance that Bastila did as well."

"Who?" Jay couldn't help but wonder as she pulled on her vest. She knew about the three levels of the planet-city Taris: Upper City, Lower City, and Under City. The lower you went, the worse it got. But she had never heard the name Bastila before.

"The smack to your head did more damage than I thought. Bastila's a Jedi."

_Great._

"She's also the key to the entire war effort. We can't let her fall into the Sith's hands. So long as we keep our heads down, we should be able to find her." He tossed her a blaster. "You ready?"

She twirled the blaster between her fingers and slid it into her holster. "Lead the way."

"Alright, we need to find a way into the Lower City."

"Food first."

"Yeah, food first."

A few moments later, the two soldiers sat at a small diner. No one paid them any attention, going about their business as if there was not a Sith occupation, and the two soldiers decided to do the same; although they both stiffened whenever a Sith patrol passed their table – until their food arrived, that is.

Carth chuckled at Jay's sudden enthusiasm. "You are going to eat me out of my commission, aren't you?"

She smirked. Since she had not yet been paid by the Republic Armada, he would have to buy the food until she got some credits. "Hey, I've been unconscious how long? I think I'm entitled to some food!"

"Some, not the whole kitchen."

"For your information," she paused to scarf half the plate, "I always eat like I'm about to starve. I've learned that when you have food you should enjoy it."

"Where'd you learn that?"

She swallowed before answering. "A lower-class planet out on the Rim, forget the name. Even the rich people had supply issues." Jay took a gulp of caffa and skewered the last piece of meat. "Where are you from?"

"Telos."

Jay winced and muttered a curse. Telos had been the first planet to fall to the Sith Armada. Their assault ships bombed the planet into a crater-ridden graveyard. And now she had stuck her foot in her mouth. She'd never had any tact. "Sorry."

Carth shrugged. "Not your fault."

"Still."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Jay polished off her meal in silence and followed him out. After a few steps, she cocked her head curiously. "Carth?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"I'm all ears, beautiful."

Jay frowned. "'Beautiful'? Isn't that a little inappropriate?"

Carth blinked in surprise. "Is there something you'd prefer I called you?"

"My name comes to mind."

"Don't get yourself in a twist over it, gorgeous, I didn't mean anything by it."

"There you go again!" Jay shouted, not bothering to hide her cheeky grin. "I should smack you for that. Haven't known you for two hours and already you're hitting on me!"

"Oh, for crying out…fine, if it'll make you feel better, you call me something."

"Lice-ridden bantha!"

"Ouch!" Carth smirked. "I suppose 'beautiful' doesn't sound so bad in comparison, now does it?"

Jay laughed. "You are such a pain."

"Guilty as charged. If you do have some questions, feel free to interrogate me."

"This isn't an interrogation," she protested. "I never said that."

"I was just kidding, though you do seem to be full of questions." He chuckled when she shot him a dirty look. "It's kinda refreshing, to be honest. Can I ask you something first?"

"Sure."

"I've been going over the battle in the Endar Spire over and over, but something just doesn't add up. What happened from your perspective?"

"The ship blew up," Jay replied matter-of-factly.

"Ha ha." Carth stuck his hands in his pockets with a sigh. "A lot of people died up there. And for what? Hoping some Jedi power would save us? Not that Bastila had much time to act." He suddenly frowned. "Wait a moment…I just realized something odd. You survived."

"I did?" She patted her stomach and hips, as if making sure she was all there. "I wasn't aware of that! Thank you, Captain Obvious."

He mock-slapped her head. "It's strange that you're here at all. If it wasn't for Bastila asking you to be added to the crew-"

Her grin vanished, replaced by confusion. "Bastila asked for me? Why?"

Carth shrugged. "The Jedi demanded a lot of things. H***, they practically took over the ship as far as I could tell. But it is interesting that someone who was a last-minute addition to the roster also happens to be one of the survivors."

"I have a knack for surviving," Jay replied absently, her mind busy elsewhere. Why would a Jedi ask for a misplaced civilian up to her ears in smuggling rings?

The conversation was suddenly dropped when they heard an angry voice. "Where are those Sith uniforms you stole! I want answers!"

Jay turned to see a Sith soldier, plated in silver, standing guard at the entrance to an alleyway. Behind him she could see another interrogating a frightened Aqualish.

"Please, I don't know any uniforms!" the Aqualish cried, its bug-like eyes wet with tears. "I am merely trapped here by the quarantine!"

The guard stopped Jay and she realized that she had begun to step forward. "Move along, there's nothing to see here!"

"I've heard about Sith interrogations," Carth whispered. "This won't end well."

"We've got your ugly mug recorded stealing from a patrol!"

The alien's tusks quivered. "I-I never-"

"Start talking before I splatter your guts!"

"I won't let you do this," Jay decided confidently.

The interrogator looked up. "Did I hear you right? Let us? How can you stop us?"

"Time this civilian learned the penalty for defiance," the guard muttered darkly, latching a gloved hand onto her shoulder.

Jay acted out of instinct, yanking her knee upward. The guard gasped in pain before she grabbed his helmeted head and jerked it sharply. The interrogator reached for his rifle only to collapse when Carth fired first.

The Aqualish gave them a semblance of a smile, its eyes suddenly clear. "Thank you. Had they discovered that I had given the uniforms to the Hidden Beks, I would surely have died."

Jay began to grin. "You're a thief!"

"Yes. I am not ashamed of it, and you do not seem to mind it. So how may I help you?"

"Do you know how to get into the Lower City?" Carth asked.

"Yes, you must sneak past the Sith security by wearing one of their uniforms."

"Do you have any spares?"

"I am afraid not, but you could certainly take a uniform from one of the men here. If you need a friend in the Lower City, seek out the Hidden Beks."

With that, the alien dashed away. Carth sighed. "Alright, so we just need…what are you doing?"

Jay was crouched next to one of the Sith, removing the helmet. "This guy looks to be about your size."

"My size? What about you?"

/

"You do realize I could be arrested for this," Carth muttered.

Jay glanced over her shoulder at him. "For what? Impersonating the enemy?" She could feel the glare from under the helmet. Carth was less than happy with the fact that he would have to wear the Sith uniform, voicing his displeasure loudly and often. Jay shook her head, her mind distracted by the tight handcuffs on her wrists.

As they approached the elevator, she fixed a sullen look on her face. They would probably only have one shot at this, though from the look of the lazy guard, it shouldn't be too hard.

Carth stopped, pulling Jay a little rougher than she thought necessary, and cleared his throat. "Found this runaway-"

"Go on through," the guard ordered with a yawn.

Jay raised a brow in surprise as Carth gently pushed her to the lift. Once the door closed, she picked the locks on the cuffs. "Yunno, the Sith need to upgrade their security." She turned to face the wall as Carth extracted himself from the armor. "What did you mean by you know about Sith interrogations?"

"Well, the soldiers will pound the information out of their prisoners, and the officers will force them to watch their loved ones be tortured and killed. Then there's the Dark Jedi."

"What about them?"

"I've heard the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

"That would suck, going through life like everything was fine and then suddenly realizing you're actually living a lie. I wouldn't want to go through that." The lift stopped gently and Jay looked out at the grime-covered streets. "Welcome to the Lower City," she observed.


	3. Trust

Author's Notes -

Finally! An update!

Read and review, please!

* * *

Trust

The Lower City was dirty. Trash was scattered everywhere, and Jay wondered if she was truly stepping in water. She could hear moaning and chattering from one of the alleyways, but knew better than to look.

Carth heaved a sigh. "Bets that it gets worse the further we go?"

"No bet." Jay cracked her knuckles boredly as they navigated the streets. She shook her head at the spice peddlers, her mind mapping the route. After a few minutes, she remembered something. "Yunno, Carth I never got to ask that question."

"Which question? You've asked a good number."

She pulled back her fist mockingly, grinning as he edged away. "Before you started flirting with me."

"Flirting? I was not flirting-"

"You called me beautiful and gorgeous. How is that not flirting?" She didn't stop to let him answer. "You're not going to distract me this time, back to my original query."

He chuckled softly. "Alright, alright, ask away."

"How did you get to be on the Endar Spire?"

Her question had an abrupt affect on him. His expression flashed from companionable to dark and brooding; his stance stiffened, suddenly defensive. "I don't like to talk about the past," he muttered gruffly.

She frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"Didn't I just say-"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Look, I don't trust easily. It's how I am."

"That sounds like an excuse to me."

Carth scowled. "I'm not making excuses. I've learned to never take things at face value and I hate surprises."

Jay wasn't an idiot, she could sense what he had glanced over hanging above their heads. "You don't trust me." She crossed her arms, striking a defiant pose.

"I just . . . I've been stabbed in the back before and it's not going to happen again."

A thinly-veiled accusation, one that grated her nerves. "Of course it's not going to happen again if you never trust anyone!"

"There's no need to take it personal-"

She shoved him angrily. "Don't tell me not to take it personally, hairless Wookie!"

"Hairless . . . " Carth fought to hold back a smile, failing utterly. "Okay, sister, just calm down before your head explodes."

"We'll just see who's head explodes, you ungrateful monkey-lizard!"

"Is that it?" Carth spread his arms wide, leaving his torso defenseless. "C'mon, sister, take your best shot."

"Drooling Bomarr cast-off!" Jay retorted.

Carth grinned, pressing a hand to his chest. "Ow! I think you hurt my man feelings with that one."

"Don't patronize me," Jay muttered, still cross.

"Wouldn't think of it. Feel better?"

Jay smiled in spite of herself. "Maybe a little."

He sobered slightly. "Good, then maybe we can talk rationally about this."

"Carth, the only way we're going to get through this is if we trust each other," Jay reminded, her humor gone. "You saved my life. I trust you to pull my rear out of the fire again if needed. You have to trust me to do the same for you."

"I don't-"

"Oh, just shut up!" she snapped and stormed away, swearing under her breath. They were trapped behind enemy lines on a strange planet trying to rescue a Jedi. How could he expect them to survive if they didn't work together? Without trust, they would both be dead in moments.

Upbeat music drew her attention to a cantina off the beaten track. That's what she needed. Action, vibe, life. Nodding to the bouncer, she entered the joint.

The cantina was lively, overflowing with aliens, and more than a little smoggy. Pale-faced Bith provided the music for the exotic dancers parading on the stage, emotionless facades tempting their audience. The pazzak tables were crowded by both players and observers, an occasional shout of triumph or defeat punctuating the air at the turn of a card.

_Ah. Much better._ Jay slipped through the masses of people, careful to avoid wandering hands, and pulled up a chair at the bar. "Juma, ice-cold."

A moment later, she held a shot glass between her fingers, brimming with a dark smoky liquid. She was about to drink when a young Twi'lek perched on the stool next to her. "Berry juice," she ordered with a smile.

Jay quietly surveyed her neighbor. She couldn't be older than fourteen, blue skin covered with a thin layer of grime, and a cheerful air about her. A welcome break from angst-master Captain Carth Onasi.

As the girl sipped her juice, a pair of Rodians approached, their beady eyes focused on the girl. She greeted them with a scowl. "Oh, don't you have anything better to do?"

"Cantina is dangerous place for little girl," one Rodian intoned. "Little girl should not come to cantina."

The Twi'lek simply rolled her eyes. "Just a sec, boys. Zaalbar! Could you come squash a couple insects for me?" A roar of indignation came from a nearby table, outside Jay's field of vision, and the girl smiled. "You need the exercise, so get over here."

Jay raised a brow as an intimidating Wookie lumbered towards them; she eased her blaster back into its holster, worries allayed. At this range, the Wookie would do more damage than she ever could.

"We have no problem with big Wookie!" the Rodians whimpered, edging away from the mass of hair and muscle. "Our problem with you, little girl!"

"You got a prob with me, you deal with Big Z." The Wookie growled in agreement, and the girl flashed a smile at him. "So unless you want your limbs ripped off, I suggest you greenies hop on out." She shooed them away, grinning impishly.

"Little girl is lucky she has big Wookie," they grumbled, shuffling away.

"You've got spunk," Jay commended with a smile. "What's your name?"

The Twi'lek beamed. "Mission. And this big Wookie is my best friend Zaalbar."

"Jay Robyn. Yunno, you seem like someone who knows a thing or two about the Lower City. What can you tell me about the Hidden Beks?"

"Great place to hang out, it's just down the street. The gang is actually pretty friendly to outsiders, provided you're not a Sith or a Black Vulkar."

"Rival gang?"

"Yep, led by some core-slime called Brejik." Mission made a face. "He used to be a Hidden Bek, until Gadon, leader of the Beks, lost his sight in a swoop race. Everyone thought he'd hand the gang over to Brejik, but Gadon didn't think he was ready yet. So Brejik ran off and took control of the Vulkars."

Jay nodded. "Sounds rough. How do you get by?"

"Fortunately I have Big Z, otherwise I might be in trouble!" Mission finished her drink and stood. "Well, we better get going. C'mon, Big Z."

Zaalbar groaned.

"Can't you think about something besides your stomach for five minutes?" She rolled her eyes, cementing the teenage vibe. "Nice meeting you, Jay."

Jay waggled her fingers, chuckling as she watched them saunter out. She downed her drink, not even blinking as the sweet liquid glided over her tongue. She examined the shot glass out of boredom, tapping her boot on the floor. _Three, two, one-_

"Hey."

She didn't spare him a glance as she ordered another drink. "Carth."

His voice was firm, commanding. "We're not here to get drunk."

"Correction, _you're_ not here to get drunk."

That stumped him for a moment. "Then why are you here?"

Jay sighed wistfully as a fresh shot of juma slid into her fingers. "I don't know. I'm just here."

Carth sat down next to her with a grunt; she could feel his gaze on her face. "Maybe you have a point about the trust thing."

"Maybe?" Now she looked at him, brow raised.

"Alright, you do have a point."

"Thank you."

"Can we get back to what we were doing now?"

She scowled, fingers curling into her palm. "Haven't you been listening?"

"I don't trust you with my past," Carth admitted. "But as a soldier, I trust you to watch my back. Good enough?"

Jay eyed his outstretched hand warily, mentally reviewing her options. She could accept, and maybe get off the planet – after rescuing the Jedi. Or she could tell him where he could stuff it, and hope she came across a ship capable of breaking the blockade. Neither of them were particularly optimistic scenarios.

Finally she gulped the juma and shook his hand firmly. "For now."

Carth smiled, relieved. "Good. Now let's find this Hidden Bek place."

"Already did."

"You were planning to find Bastila yourself?"

"I was waiting for you to come around. Also, you need to pay my tab."

Carth groaned, but began to dig in his pocket.

/

It had taken some slick talking on Jay's part, but they were inside the Hidden Bek base. The guard had been ready to shoot them on the spot, and her warning still rang in Jay's ears. _The Hidden Beks are watching you._

"Creepy," Carth commented as the door closed behind them.

She nodded. "Okay, Gadon's blind and he probably has a bunch of guards around him."

"Great, more trigger-happy thugs."

Jay decided not to mention that she was itching for a fight and quickly spotted Gadon, sitting at a desk and shuffling paperwork. She headed toward him, not surprised when an angry Twi'lek stepped into her path. "Who are you and what is your business with Gadon?"

Jay's hand jumped toward her dagger; she managed to stop it at the set of medpacs on her hip. No need to give this lady further reason to shoot.

Gadon looked up at the scene playing out before him, scowling darkly. "Calm down, Zaerdra! No one is going to try anything in the middle of the base. It'd be suicide."

"You're too trusting, Gadon! Brejik and his Vulkars want you dead, and it's my job to keep you alive."

"Move aside!"

Grumbling, Zaerdra stepped back. Gadon smiled, his eyes silver-white due to medical implants. "Sorry. Zaerdra's overzealous. What can I do for you?"

"We're looking for some escape pods that crashed in the city a few days ago," Jay replied. She had considered easing up to the subject, but a single glance at Zaerdra's automatic rifle told her that blunt honesty would be best.

"They crashed in the Undercity, to be specific," Gadon answered. "Unfortunately the Vulkars have already stripped them clean. From what I've heard, they found a female Republic officer by the name of Bastila and took her prisoner."

Maybe she would get that fight after all! "What will they do? Sell her on the slave market?"

"Brejik has put her up as the Vulkar's share of the prize in the upcoming swoop race, hoping to win the support of the smaller gangs. If the Vulkars win the race, Bastila will probably be sold on the slave market."

"So how do we rescue her?" Carth asked. "We can't fight all the gangs."

Jay opened her mouth to protest, but Gadon beat her to it. "I might be able to help you. If you'll help me. My engineers have been working on a prototype swoop engine, but the Vulkars stole it from us. Without that engine, we don't stand a chance. You get the engine, I'll help you save your friend."

"Where's the engine?"

"In the Vulkar base. You can't take the front door, but there is someone who knows a back entrance – Mission Vao."

Jay blinked in surprise as Zaerdra scowled. "Gadon, she's just a kid! How is she supposed to help them with this?"

"Mission knows the back alleys and the sewers better than anyone. Not to mention that she'd be more than happy to help. She's probably in the cantina."

"Nope, she left," Jay corrected.

"Oh, then she's in the Undercity. You'll need a proper disguise to get past the Sith checkpoint at the lift."

"We have a Sith uniform. It worked upstairs."

Gadon shook his head. "You need papers to fool him. Fortunately I have some, and you can have them in exchange for the uniform-"

"Deal," Carth declared, already digging into his pack.

Jay stifled a laugh and, after collecting the papers, the two headed out. As promised, the papers easily fooled the guard and in mere moments they entered the lift to the Undercity.


	4. Rescue

Rescue

As bad as the Lowercity had been, the Undercity was worse. Flickering lamplight lit the dank passages in swathes, leaving great black patches in-between. Jay was reasonably sure that the noises coming from those patches were not human. "_Osi'kyr._"

"I hope we don't run into rakghouls," Carth muttered.

"What's a rak-"

Something shrieked and Jay quickly fired at the misshapen creature lunging from the darkness. It wailed and collapsed in a jumbled heap.

"That's a rakghoul," Carth answered.

"Poisonous?"

"Contagious. If you get bitten by a rakghoul, do yourself a favor and shoot yourself."

Jay barely contained a scream of terror. She may be frightened out of her wits, but she had a sense of dignity.

"Help! Somebody help!"

She raised her pistol again, quickly lowering it as the stranger stepped into the light: Mission Vao. "What the h***?"

"You gotta help me!" Mission grabbed her arm and tugged insistently. "No one else will help me, even the Beks. You'll help me, won't you?"

Jay grabbed her shoulders firmly, locking gazes with the frightened girl. "Mission, calm down, breathe, and tell me and Carth what happened."

Mission paused, took a short gasp of air. "Big Z and I, we were walking 'round in the sewers, exploring. We do it all the time! B-but this time, Gammoreans were waiting for us. Big Z threw himself at them and yelled for me to run, and I-I thought he was right behind me." Her lower lip trembled and her gaze became watery. "He's been captured by slavers, I just know it! You gotta help him!"

"Mission, calm down!" Jay ordered, her firm tone startling the girl. "It's okay. We'll help Zaalbar, you have my word on it."

Mission calmed slightly, the promise of aid enough to assuage her fears. She nodded, blinking back tears. "Thank you."

"Do you know where they took him?" Carth asked.

She frowned, having to force her mind out of panic and into focus. "Probably in the southern part of the sewers. The stench reminds them of home. I'll show you the way."

They followed the lanterns through the darkness, their walk punctuated with shots from Jay's blaster and squeals from dead targets. Mission glanced at them a few times, as though trying to build up her courage. "Do you think he's alright?"

"Wookies are usually pretty capable," Jay answered, moving around a heap of debris. "He should be fine. Don't worry."

"I can't! He's my best friend! My only friend."

"Try thinking about something else," Carth suggested. "Something to take your mind off of it."

Mission was silent for a moment, her brow furrowed. "Well I do have a question…Carth, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I've never left Taris, and I've always kinda wondered…you've been to a lot of planets, right? How does Taris, yunno, rate?"

"Pretty low," Carth answered bluntly. "The prejudice, the rich spoiling themselves while the poor are crushed beneath them…it's not a pretty picture."

"That's only since the Sith occupation. Before that," Mission stopped, biting her lip. "Well, it wasn't all that different. Guess Taris ain't as great as I thought."

"Trust me, there are a lot of better worlds. A lot of worse ones too, but Taris is no place for a kid on her own. Not even a kid who has a Wookie looking after her."

Apparently he said something wrong, because Mission shot him a dirty glare. "Hey, I ain't no kid. And I look out for Zalbaar as much as he looks out for me. Big Z's my friend, not my babysitter!" She rolled her eyes toward Jay. "Geez, ask a question and get a lecture!"

Jay decided not to comment; Carth, however, bridled. "Don't you snap at me, missy! You want a lecture? How's this: only bratty little children fly off the handle because a simple comment!"

"I don't have to listen to you, Carth!" Mission snapped back. "You're not my father, though you're prolly old enough to be. So keep your lectures inside your withered old head, cause I don't need 'em!"

"And I sure as h*** don't need this!"

"Hey!" Jay barked, her voice echoing off of a far-away ceiling. The two of them fell silent, as though unnerved by the resonance of the place. "Focus. Mission, is this the door to the sewers?"

The 'door' was actually a manhole cover, but Mission nodded. "Yeah. That's it."

Carth pulled the cover away with a grunt of effort and Jay stepped onto the first rung of the ladder, holstering her blaster. Without a word she descended into the depths.

The ladder went on for a ways, and Jay was nearly caught off guard by a section of solid ground under her boot. She stomped on it twice and with a satisfied nod stepped off the ladder, blaster back in hand. "Looks clear."

Mission and Carth climbed down quickly, the former taking the lead. "It's this way. C'mon."

The sewers consisted of a maze of chambers, a path along the wall hanging above the muck swilling round below. Jay kept pace with Mission, checking every chamber before letting the girl continue. For his part Carth was not useless, defending their flank from curious rakghouls.

After an hour of trudging through the sewers, Mission halted at a corner. "The Gammoreans are just up ahead!"

Jay pressed herself to the wall and peeked round the corner. "How many?" Carth asked.

"Uh...at least ten, and one really big one. With an axe."

Mission gulped as Carth drew his off-hand blaster. "Mission, do you know how to use a weapon?"

She shook her head. "Zaalbar did all the fighting."

Jay cursed. "Okay, you wait here. Carth, cover fire."

"Why?"

The scout didn't answer, partly because she had already jumped into the mass of walking pigs, dagger slicing through their ranks. Carth sighed and followed his orders. "I'm a higher rank, I should be giving the orders," he grumbled halfheartedly.

Suddenly Jay came running back, hands over her head. "DUCK AND COVER!"

Carth's battle-honed reflexes kicked in, and he spun away from the door, shoving Mission against the floor as a loud _whump _blasted flames where they had been. After a moment of silence, he rose with a frown. "Jay?"

A slightly muffled string of curses answered him. Mission rolled over, grinning at the muck beneath them. "Man, you look awful!"

Jay spat out a mouthful of sludge, her scowl accented by the grime clinging to her skin. Grumbling unprintable language, she heaved herself back onto the path.

"What was that?" Carth demanded.

"One of the Gammoreans pulled out a grenade. Fortunately he was stupid enough to throw it at me, standing in the middle of their little pack. Probably blew open the door to that cell, though."

A soft growl behind them drew their attention to a battered Wookie, his head cocked almost curiously. Mission lit up with joy. "Zaalbar!"

She almost disappeared into his hug, squirming with delight as he stroked her head. /You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission./

"I missed you too, Big Z!" She looked up at him adoringly. "You didn't think I'd forget you – Mission and Zaalbar, together forever."

_They were apart for what, five minutes?_ Jay discreetly gagged, earning a gentle boot to the side from Carth.

/Who are these people with you?/

Mission looked back at the two soldiers. "Oh, these are my new friends! Without their help, I'd never have gotten you out."

Jay got to her feet. "Not a problem. I'm Jay Robyn, this is Carth Onasi."

/You know the language of my people?/

"You can understand him?" Carth queried.

"Is there an echo in here?" Jay asked mockingly.

/That is rare among your people,/ Zaalbar explained. /I am impressed./

"I have a knack for languages. Anyway, are you alright?"

/Yes, thanks to you. You have saved me from a life of servitude and slavery. The only way I can truly repay you is through a lifedebt./

Jay gaped in shock as Mission gasped. "A lifedebt! Zaalbar, are you serious? Think it over carefully."

/I'm certain, Mission. I must honor the traditions of my people./ He turned back to Jay, locking his gaze with hers. /In the presence of you all I swear my lifedebt. Forever after I will be by your side, Jay Robyn. May my vow be as strong as the roots of the great Wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk./

Jay blinked a few times, trying to wrap her head around this new development. Having a walking carpet following her would be . . . pretty _awesome_, actually. "I'm honored, Zaalbar."

Carth managed to close his jaw. He didn't understand the language, but he got the gist of what had happened. "Not one day walking around, and you've got a Wookie swearing fealty to you. That's something else."

Mission smiled. "Well, I guess that means you're stuck with me! Wherever Big Z goes, I go. I almost lost him once, it ain't happening again."

Jay grinned. "Glad to have you, Mission."

"Yipee!" Mission did a little dance. "Okay, where to next?"

"We need to get into the Vulkar base to get a prototype swoop engine," Carth answered.

"That's easy! I've got the passcodes to the back door here in the sewers." Mission bit her lip nervously. "Just hope the rancor isn't still there."

"Rancor?" Carth repeated.

"Sweet." Jay twirled her blaster. "Let's go."

* * *

Author's Notes -

Two chapters in one day. I am on a roll!

Osi'kyr - Mandalorian, pronounced 'OH-see-KEER', basically "Ah crap!"

*edit* fixed the differential for Zaalbar's dialogue.


	5. Breaking and Entering

Breaking and Entering

After tromping through the twisting caverns of the sewers for nearly an hour, the motley crew found a luminous energy field. Mission easily hacked the nearby console, and they descended further into the muck. When they turned a corner, Jay suddenly scowled. "Ugh, what's that smell?"

/Sorry,/ Zaalbar muttered.

"Not you, Zaalbar, though you reek of Gammorean." Jay peered around the next corner and paled. "Oh, s***."

The rancor was easily six meters tall, munching away at what looked like a nerf haunch. Its skin was a dark muddy brown, its teeth speckled white. By its feet was a heap of bones. She gulped. "Carth?"

Carth appeared behind her, his eyes growing wide. "Sithspit! How do we get past that thing?"

"I'm working on that...okay, I'll sneak around by the wall. And you will discreetly place a few of these," she held up a cloth strip covered with frag mines, "in about the center of the room. Once you're finished and in a safe spot, namely here, I'll lure it to the mines."

"That's your master plan? Blow it up?"

"Got a better idea? I'm open to suggestions."

He grumbled and took the mines. She grinned. "Okay, Mission, Zaalbar, stay here." As Carth crept to the center of the room, she slunk along the wall, acutely aware of the rancid remains she was stepping on. She watched the rancor with a grimace.

A surprisingly loud clunk drew her and the rancor's attention to Carth, who had dropped the explosives. He looked up and yelped, bolting away from the rancor's slow-moving arm. The rancor followed, its giant foot kicking the belt of mines toward Jay. _New plan, _she thought viciously as she primed the explosives. _Open the hide, shove a mine in, jump off._

Mines in hand, she dashed up to the rancor and began to climb up its leg, swearing at the slime that clung to her skin. The rancor stopped, aware that something was scaling it and began to reach back for her. She yelped as its claws barely missed her head.

"Jay!" Carth hollered.

"Stay there!" Jay ordered, now crouched on the rancor's head. She drew her dagger and began slashing at the thick hide. She knew that blades rarely pierced rancor hide, but there was a slim chance- yes! The blade had broken the skin.

Only it wouldn't come out.

"Oh, c'mon, d*** it, don't do this!" She jerked the blade back and forth, but it was truly stuck. Suddenly a grimy, putrid hand clamped around her waist and dragged her into the air. She shouted a string of filthy words as the mines slipped out of her hands and down into the rancor's gaping maw.

Carth reached for his blaster, unsure of what he could do. But before he could act, the mines detonated, the ensuing shock wave knocking him back on his rear. The rancor roared in pain and hit the ground with a colossal thud, dead.

Mission and Zaalbar slowly entered the pit, surprised to see the carcass. "Carth, where's Jay?"

Carth got up, dusting off his pants. "I don't know. Jay?"

"Jay!" Mission yelled.

"_I'm not coming down!_"

They all looked up to see Jay hanging onto one of the durasteel beams holding up the ceiling. Carth tried not to laugh. "How did you get up there?"

"I was thrown up here, and I'm _not_ coming down! Down there you make me deal with rancors and rakghouls and sewer sludge! Up here it's safe!"

Mission smiled. "Well, she'll have to come down sometime to pee."

"_Too late!_"

Carth snickered. "C'mon, Jay, we need to get going."

"No chance, you brainbolted dwarfnut! Not after almost getting eaten!"

"It was your plan!"

"_You_ screwed it up, Hutt-spawn! You're the _di'kut_ who got the rancor's attention. I _saved_ your star-forsaken a**!"

"How is this my fault?"

Jay scowled. "Weren't you listening to me, two-toed swamp sucker?"

He sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I guess I'll have to climb up there and get her."

"You do that, _bantha poodoo_, and I will personally cut off your manhood!"

Carth's face blanched. "You wouldn't!"

"_Just try me!_"

Mission giggled as he tried to regain his composure. Suddenly Jay yelped. "Zaalbar, let go!"

The Wookie scaled down the wall, Jay slung over his shoulder like a sack. Zaalbar easily dropped down to the ground and released her. She ran a hand through her short hair and walked over to the rancor carcass. Carth frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Getting...my...knife!" Jay grunted as the blade slowly slipped out with a squelch. She grimaced at the goo and wiped it off with her fingers. "Gonna have to sharpen this." And she did, ignoring her companions' slight cringes as she ran the stone down her blade.

The Vulkars were not happy to see a bunch of newcomers in the base, and expressed this with a hail of blaster bolts. Zaalbar roared in greeting, sending more than a few thugs scurrying away; Jay and Carth caught the stragglers in a lethal cross-fire, the ensuing silence bringing a smile to the soldiers' faces.

"Guys, I know where the garage is!" Mission crowed, dashing into the hallway.

Zaalbar snagged the collar of her jacket in one paw, the other delivering a short burst of fire from his crossbow. The defense droid that had been lurking in the passageway never stood a chance.

"Okay, I don't care what you say," Jay informed Carth with a wicked grin. "We're keepin' them!"

A bit more cautious, Mission led the way to a broad room filled with swoop bikes and assorted equipment, Jay's well-aimed shots dispatching the guards. She summoned the description that Gadon had supplied from her memory, "Okay, the engine is about as long as my forearm, thick as Carth's skull, and a dull grey. Let's split up and find it."

Carth opened his mouth to retort, but Zaalbar herded him away to the offices. Jay and Mission examined the swoop bikes with no luck, so Jay began subtle sabotage. "Hey, Mission, what's this?"

Mission surveyed the gadget that she was pointing at. "Oh, that's the cooling unit. It keeps the engine from overheating and blowing up."

"That has to go." Jay ripped it out. "What about that?"

"Oh, that's the brakes."

She jerked it up and tossed it. "Now it's garbage."

Mission sighed. "I think you just like taking things apart."

Jay laughed just as a cry of pain reached their ears, followed by the tell-tale sounds of battle. In an instant she was off the swoop, blaster in hand. "Wait here."

"But-"

"Stay," she ordered firmly. Protests muted, she bolted towards the source of the noise. Carth was leaning against a wall, hand pressed to his arm and biting his lip. Zaalbar was trying to hold off a horde of angry gang members around the corner, his roars as intimidating as his bowcaster. "What happened?" Jay demanded, skidding to a halt.

"Got clipped," Carth growled behind clenched teeth. "We set off an alarm, drew too much attention."

Jay lifted his fingers and sighed. "You'll need a doctor. Did you find the engine?"

"It's back there." He frowned when she grabbed his blaster. "What are you doing?"

"My job. Zaalbar, fall back." She peeked around the corner. Six on the left, five on the right, eleven in all. Too many. She took a deep breath and quickly fired a volley, ducking before they got a shot off. Four on the left, three on the right, seven in all. She could take that.

The first Vulkar was surprised to see her, he didn't have a chance to stop the dagger driving into his chest. She tore it out and slit the throats of the next two, rolling behind cover to avoid the blaster bolts. Pulling out a flash grenade, she tossed it into the midst of guards and covered her ears. The grenade went off and she leapt over the table, landing on one guard and cutting open another's back. One pulled out a grenade only to fall down as she slashed his chest. She then ripped the blade through the middle of a Twi'lek, pausing to watch the two parts hitting the ground. The last tried to meet her head on, finding it difficult with his own vibroblade running between his ribs. It all happened in a matter of moments.

Carth gaped as she walked back, prototype engine in her hands. She looked at the engine, then at him. "Shall we?"

"Uh...yeah, sure."

Mission joined them at the doors and they strode out of the base like they owned it. Silence permeated the walk back to the Hidden Beks, until Mission cleared her throat. "Hey, Carth? Can we talk?"

"Are you ready to have a civil chat?" Carth wondered flatly. "Or is this going to be another childish tantrum?"

She bridled instantly. "Childish? I'm trying to apologize, you nerf-herder!" Suddenly she stopped, taking a deep breath. "I mean...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad at you, I'm just sick of people treating me like some helpless kid."

Carth nodded. "I understand. And I'm sorry about what I said too. I've been a little on edge lately, not surprising considering what we've been through, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. And I don't think you're helpless. After all, we wouldn't have that hunk of hardware if it wasn't for you."

"You really mean that, don't you?" She smiled happily. "Thanks, Carth."

"Ah, no big deal. I know how it is, sometimes you just need to hear a few words of encouragement." He suddenly smirked. "Kids are like that."

"Kids are like that? Listen, you..." Realization dawned on her and she began to giggle. "Oh, I get it. You're pretty funny, Carth, for an old guy."

"Aw, did you two decide to play nice?" Jay joked. "It's about time." She stopped at the Bek base. "Carth, you head on to the doctor in the Upper City. Zaalbar, you go with him. Mission and I will handle the swoop race."

Carth frowned. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. That arm needs some attention, and I don't need a babysitter. Besides, I'm sure Zaalbar wants some food."

Zaalbar nodded vigorously. /Be careful, Mission./

"Don't worry, Big Z!" Mission beamed. "Jay and I've got everything under control!"

Jay smiled. She'd never wanted to be the one who "had it under control", but one had to adapt. Right?

* * *

Author's Notes -

Di'kut - Mandalorian, pronounced 'DEE-koot'. Means idiot or fool, lit. "someone who forgets to put their pants on"


	6. Racing

Racing

Jay listened patiently as the swoop mechanic explained the basics of the race. One swoop on the track at a time, this wasn't Nar Shadaa. At the end the announcer compared the times and declared the winner. "You got it?" the mechanic finally asked.

She nodded. Mission frowned disbelievingly. "Really? Cause I didn't."

"Fortunately you're not driving," the mechanic replied, earning a dirty look from the girl.

Jay took a comm link from her pocket and plugged it into her ear, indicating for Mission to do the same with a spare. "Head up to the stands, Mission."

"Are you okay?"

"Didn't sleep." That was a lie, Jay had slept. And had woken in a cold sweat. Blasted nightmares.

"And now," the announcer bellowed, "the Hidden Beks' sponsored rider, Miss Jay Robyn!"

She stepped out onto the track, waving sheepishly at the roaring crowd. Gadon stood by the swoop, surrounded by guards. He shook her hand warmly. "Good luck."

"I'll do my best," she promised. It wasn't much of a promise, she realized as she approached the swoop. She'd never raced swoops before. Her gut knotted painfully, and she punched the throttle as the whistle blew.

The swoop jolted forward, jerking Jay in the cockpit. She gaped at the speed for a moment, then saw a stack of debris. Obstacles, the mechanic said, meant to make the race a challenge. She quickly maneuvered around it and other piles, striking a few boost panels. G-force pressed her into the seat and she found herself laughing, adrenaline rushing. "Whooo!"

All too soon she had crossed the finish line, screeching to a halt. She jumped out of the cockpit and tore the helmet off, grinning broadly. "I love swoop racing."

"_You've only been racing for about twenty seconds,_" Mission commented, her voice tinny over the comm.

"Still love it." She joined the other racers at the front row of the stands as other swoops were brought to the starting line one by one. Jay took this chance to look around. Sitting not a few feet from her was a man in purple armor, an expression of arrogance on his face, surrounded by guards. "Brejik."

Near Brejik was a simple metal cell with a single inhabitant staring at the floor. Her clothes, at one time neat and fine, were dirty and riddled with holes; light glinted off the metal collar clasped around her neck. A neural disruptor. Brejik had no idea what he had.

As though sensing someone watching her, the woman raised her head and caught Jay's gaze.

_She barely dodged the hissing blade. "Will you just listen to me?"_

_The Jedi scowled haughtily. "You cannot win, Revan. Do not try to justify your cause!"_

"_I'm not trying to do anything!" She rolled to avoid the lightsaber, wincing as the heat swept over her back. "Except trying not to get killed."_

_Suddenly the ship shook violently, disturbing their duel. She looked out the window to see a familiar battleship. "Oh, s***."_

_The battleship fired again, and she was thrown off her feet, head cracking sharply upon impact._

"Hey! Robyn!"

Jay blinked and turned to the racers. "Hm?"

"A Vulkar beat your score!"

She looked up at the holoscreen and scowled briefly. "Well, guess I better get back out there."

After talking with the manager, she clambered into the swoop once more as the announcer screamed, "Here's Miss Robyn, back to prove herself on the track! Careful, Robyn, we've already lost one racer today!"

"Oh, yeah, thanks for the confidence boost," she grumbled.

"_Don't worry, Jay,_" Mission chirped in her ear. "_You'll do great__!_"

Jay crossed her toes and watched the lights change from red to yellow to green and put it to the floor. She relaxed as adrenaline pumped into her system, easily avoiding debris. It wasn't as scary as before, and she found herself nostalgic for the heart-pounding danger. So she maneuvered toward the wall, skidding the swoop against the track guards.

"_Jay, what are you doing?_"

"Just livening up the game," she whispered, dodging a debris pile at the last possible second.

"_You're gonna get killed!_"

She doubted that, and began to say so when she clipped a pile, sending the swoop spiraling down the track. She bounced round the cockpit like a ragdoll as the bike collided with debris, track guards, and boost pads. Finally, after she felt ready to puke and pass out, it skidded to a stop, leaving her disoriented and battered.

"Well, that was quite the finish!" the announcer shouted in fake joy. "With that kind of racing, she'll have won! If she's still alive, that is..."

Smoke had filled the cockpit, and she coughed as she removed the helmet and tried the door. When that did not provide an instant getaway, she slammed her helmet against the glass; it shattered on contact with the protective gear, creating a sizable hole to slip through.

The crowd cheered as she stepped out of the swoop, glad that their winner hadn't died and spoiled the fun. Medics poured onto the track, pushing bottles of water into her hands and checking her head and limbs for injuries. She had just reiterated that she was fine when the swoop exploded, drawing everyone's attention and leaving her to escape to the stands.

After the cleaning crews had scraped the swoop bike off the track, a few other racers attempted to beat Jay's score. As one after another failed, she glanced around the audience once more, grinning when she saw the fury on Brejik's face.

Eventually everyone gave up and the announcer hollered, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our Taris Swoop Champion – Jay Robyn!"

The crowd shrieked their approval and Jay could only smile sheepishly as the racers pounded her on the back, offering their congratulations. She hated being in the spotlight.

"And now, to present the Black Vulkar's share of the prize, I give you Brejik."

There were scattered boos and applause as Brejik rose, his anger replaced by calm arrogance. Jay frowned. What did the slimeball have up his sleeve now?

"People, hear me," he ordered. "Before I bestow the so-called winner with her prize, I must inform you: the winning rider cheated!"

Jay's stage fright melted into fury as she leapt to her feet. "That's a d*** lie!"

He ignored her. "She was using a prototype accelerator, clearly an unfair advantage."

The track manager shook his head. "No, there's nothing in the rules about that."

Brejik paid no heed. "Because of this Hidden Bek treachery, I am withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"

"You cannot do that!" a racer protested. "That goes against all tradition!"

"Fools. I am the voice of the future!"

"Oh great," Jay muttered under her breath as Brejik began to monologue about his superiority. "Not only is he bantha poodoo, he's having delusions of grandeur."

"If I want to sell this woman on the slave market, no one will stop me!" Brejik finally declared.

A clear voice broke through the crowd. "I may have something to say about that."

Everyone turned to see the woman standing outside the open cage, as though she had been there the entire time, surrounded by unconscious guards. Brejik gaped. "Impossible! You were restrained with a neural disruptor!"

"You underestimated the strength of a Jedi's mind," the woman replied calmly, tossing said neural disruptor to the ground. "That's a mistake you won't live to regret."

"Mission, hide," Jay ordered softly, reaching for her knife.

"Vulkars, to me!" Brejik cried. "Kill this woman! Kill the swoop rider!"

Jay launched into action, quickly discerning between innocent and Vulkar. Her blade cut through the Vulkars' colors; blood stained the ground as bodies fell like flies. She had just finished ripping her blade down someone's spine when something knocked her in the jaw. She landed on her stomach, dagger flying from her hand. As she began to get up, she heard something charge and looked into the barrel of a blaster. Brejik gazed down at her, his eyes wild with lunacy.

Everything slowed down as Jay's mind frantically ran over the situation. She couldn't move fast enough to run, she was still recovering from that blow to the jaw. She had no weapons in hand and the barrel was out of reach, so she couldn't fight back. But there was the double-bladed lightsaber coming from behind him!

She rolled, grabbing her knife and stabbing a nearby Vulkar as Brejik crumpled, his head missing. Jay grinned; this had to be Bastila Shan. Carth would be happy.

At the sight of the lightsaber, the other Vulkars vacated the premises, leaving the Beks to cheer and the janitors to clean up the mess. Bastila switched off her lightsaber, head held high. "Well, maybe those Vulkars will consider the consequences of holding a Jedi prisoner." She then turned on Jay. "Now, if you think that you can claim me as your prize-"

"Oh, calm down, Jedi, you're not exactly a desirable slave," Jay interrupted, sheathing her dagger. "You alright, Mission?"

Mission hurried down from the stands. "Yep."

Bastila frowned. "Wait a moment, you're one of the soldiers from the Endar Spire! What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," Jay replied, checking Brejik's pockets for spare credits.

"Really? As far as rescues go, this is a pretty poor example. Those thugs would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped in, so it's accurate to say I saved you."

Mission opened her mouth to protest, but Jay just smiled. "You wouldn't have escaped that cage successfully if I hadn't created a decent distraction." Bastila opened her mouth to protest, but Jay quickly cut her off. "But that's beside the point. I'm sure Carth would be happy to see that all our work isn't for nothing."

"Carth Onasi is alive?"

"And kicking. C'mon."

As they left the track, Gadon and Zaerdra appeared, the former shaking Jay's hand. "Thanks for your help, offworlder. We are having a celebration in the cantina. Care to join us?"

"Actually," Bastila began.

"Absolutely," Jay answered. "I could use a drink."

/

/

/

Carth quietly paced up and down the apartment, careful to step around the slumbering Wookie stretched out on the floor. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried. Gadon had said that the prototype accelerator wasn't stable, and scenarios kept running through his mind: the swoop exploding the moment Jay started the engine, Bastila sold on the black market, and Mission trapped in the middle of a gang war.

He shook his head. Jay was more than capable, she wasn't going to screw this up. Bastila would never allow herself to be sold as a slave, and Mission was too smart to stick around a war zone.

The door opened, startling him, and Jay stumbled into the room. "The winner and star champeen! Me!"

Carth stared, partly relieved, partly shocked. "Jay?"

"Yes! Jay Robyn, Tariz Swoop Champi'n!" she declared as she staggered into the kitchen area.

Carth walked over to Mission, who seemed rather embarrassed. "She's drunk."

Mission nodded. "Wanted to celebrate."

"I gots an idea!" Jay declared, rummaging through the cupboards and pulling out several more cups than necessary. "Let's all have a drink to toast our vic…vic…our win. I mean, withou' all of yous, we never would'a godden here. There wouldn' be a 'we', come to think of it. An' there wouldn' be an 'us', eether. Eye-ther." Giggling hysterically, she opened the fridge only to scowl at the contents. "Darn. No Tarezin ale."

"She had Tarisian ale?" Carth demanded.

Mission bit back a laugh. "Five mugs."

Carth buried his face in his hands as Jay shut the fridge. "Iz okay. I's already blitzed out of m' mind! Oh, that remin's me." Jay ran back to the door, almost tripping over herself. "Introdusin' the incre'ble, amazin', and…hard to rescue – Bassy!"

Bastila entered with a solemn expression. "I'm rather disappointed in your choice of rescuer, Captain."

"She wasn't like this when she left!" Carth protested. "She was sober when she left!"

"Hey, hey, no need ta fight," Jay interrupted, sitting down at the table. "Some of us iz tryin' to sleep here. I'd hate to see wha' would happen if the sleepin' beauty over there wakes up cranky," she aimed a thumb at Zaalbar, "so keep it down." She snuggled into the chair, tilting her head back, and promptly fell asleep.

Bastila frowned. "Irresponsible. The both of you. Good night."

Carth opened his mouth to snap back, but Bastila had already curled up on Jay's bunk, signaling the end of the conversation.


	7. Hangovers and Prissy Jedi

Author's Notes -

Took a bit more work than expected, but I'm finally happy with this chapter.

* * *

Hangovers and Prissy Jedi

Jay's head felt crushed, placing a painful pressure on her brain, her tongue seemed to be coated with fur, and her stomach bubbled dangerously. Basic hangover symptoms, she told herself, but that didn't stop it from being horrid. Opening her eyes, Jay quickly raised a hand to protect her face from the light streaming in through the window. "Oh, my head," she moaned softly.

"Serves you right," Carth's voice grumbled to her left and Jay slowly turned to see the pilot pouring a cup of caffa. Glancing at her, he shook his head and filled another mug with the black liquid.

"Thanks." Jay started to take a drink when her stomach reached its boiling point. Without a word she crossed to the window and vomited.

Carth patted her back. "Maybe next time you'll cut back on the ale."

"How many did I have?"

"Five, according to Mission."

Jay retched again and looked over her shoulder at him. "How drunk was I?"

He grinned. "You were sloshed."

"Oh yeah?" Her smile was sloppy. "What'd I do?"

"Well, according to Mission, you sang a bit. Something about counting mynoks."

Jay chuckled weakly. "I heard it somewhere, thought it was funny. What else?"

"Once Mission and Bastila-"

She swore. Carth laughed. "Yes, Bastila. Once they got you out of the bar, you announced to the entire planet that you were the swoop champion. Then you got back here and fell asleep."

Jay was about to launch into another round of curses when her stomach heaved again. Watching the vomit's path to the ground, she began to laugh.

"What?" Carth asked.

"I hit somebody."

Carth snickered. "Well, Bastila went out to get breakfast. I'm gonna go see what's keeping her."

"You do that."

Still chuckling, he left the apartment as Jay gulped down her caffa and opened the fridge, allowing the cold air to soothe her hangover. The sound of rustling sheets screeched in her ears and Jay promised herself that she would never drink Tarisian ale ever again. Mission appeared next to her. "Morning, Jay."

Jay smiled, shutting the fridge. "Morning, Mission."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"The fur's coming off of my tongue."

Mission giggled. "Can I get anything for you?"

"Yes, a bucket of ice water."

"Why?"

"If I hold my head in it long enough, my hangover will go away." Jay smiled at Mission's laughter and refilled her caffa, grimacing when Zaalbar growled. "Ow…"

"Oh, Big Z, keep the noise down," Mission directed. "Jay's got a hangover."

Zaalbar stroked Jay's head and voiced his concern.

"I'll live," Jay assured, setting down her mug. "Excuse me." She stepped over to the window and promptly threw up.

Mission was at her side in an instant. "Are you okay?"

"Nah, but I'll fake it." Jay winced at the sound of raised voices and opening doors.

"You mean you haven't even figured out a plan for getting off the planet? What have you been doing all this time?" Bastila demanded.

"Looking for you, remember?" Carth replied.

Bastila dropped several bags on the table, making Jay's ears ring. "I see. Well, perhaps this mission can get back on track now that I am in command again."

_Shut up, you shrill-voiced, prissy little-_

"Bastila, I know you're new at this, but a commander doesn't scold her troops because things aren't entirely on schedule. Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issue here."

"That's hardly any way to speak to a commanding officer, Captain-"

"Will you two stop?" Jay pleaded. "Some of us aren't up for shouting matches today. Bastila, Carth's right. He's been doing this a lot longer than you, so listen to him."

"I am a Jedi-"

"And you have him as an advisor," Jay reminded. "Now take the wax out of your ears and stick it in your mouth for a change."

Bastila stared for a moment, jaw hanging open, before pulling on a serene expression. "Of course. I apologize for my rudeness, Captain. Do you have an idea?"

"Not yet," Carth admitted, "but I'm sure if we all look around, we'll find something. Until then, let's try to be civil. Something tells me we'll have to spend a lot of time with each other."

_Yippee._ Jay opened the bags as silently as possible, frowning at the sight of green tubers and white pears. "What the frack is this?"

"Breakfast," Bastila replied.

"Sorry, but I need something with a little more weight than salad." Jay picked up her blasters. "I'm going out."

The moment she left the building, she cursed the sunlight. Carth's boots resounded on the pavement, and Jay cursed them too.

"Where'd you learn so many swear words?"

"Why d'you think I learned so many languages?"

Carth grinned. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Have I stopped you yet?" Jay shaded her face and the two soldiers made their way to the market district. She quickly honed in on a stall boasting hot food and home-style remedies. "Twenty nerf strips, Nar Shaddaa style, and a glass of your best hangover cure."

"Sure thing." The cook filled a tall glass with a blackish-red liquid and set it in front of her. "Best stuff this side of the galaxy. Just don't ask what's in it."

"You got it." Jay raised the glass, looking up when Carth stopped her. "What?"

"You're actually gonna drink it?"

"Hey, maybe it'll kill me and my troubles will be over." Jay gulped it down and gagged. "Ugh. Foul."

"Can I say 'I told you so'?" he wondered, plucking up a pair of sunglasses from a nearby kiosk.

"Nope." She snatched the glasses from his hand, sighing with relief once she'd donned them. "Pay the man, will you?"

Carth tried not to laugh as they meandered down the street, Jay happily munching on breakfast. They'd hardly gone five feet before the food had vanished and he shook his head as she searched the bag for hidden crumbs. "You're amazing, beautiful."

She smirked impishly. "Yunno what? Since you keep calling me 'beautiful', I'm gonna give you a nickname."

"Oh, c'mon."

"Nothing too fancy."

"Nothing too insulting, I hope."

Jay laughed, wincing when her head throbbed. "No, not insulting."

"Good, the last thing we need to do is call each other names."

"I think it's too late for that." She pondered for a moment, ignoring the groan from her hung-over mind. "Flyboy."

He started, as though surprised. "What?"

"That's your nickname," Jay explained. "Flyboy."

Carth didn't speak for a moment, a sad smile on his face. "My wife used to call me that."

_Wife? He's __**married**__? Wait, used to? Past tense usually means…ah s***._ "I didn't-"

"It's fine," he assured. "Don't worry about it, beautiful."

"Alright, flyboy." Jay smiled. "Yunno, come to think of it, if I give you a nickname, but no one else, I'm not being fair."

"Then what are you going to call Mission?"

"Hmm…Blue."

He chuckled. "Why?"

"Because the only thing about her that's blue is her skin."

"I get it. Very cute." He leaned against the walkway railing. "Zaalbar."

She took a moment to think, snapping her fingers in triumph. "He's my walking carpet." Carth snorted. "What? It fits. He's just a big lug."

Carth tried to keep from aggravating Jay's hangover with his laughter. "Bastila?"

She frowned at that, beginning to pace. "Bastila Shan…Bassy Shan." She suddenly grinned. "Bassy s***."

He couldn't help but burst out laughing. Jay rubbed her temple, still beaming mischievously, and waited until he remembered to breathe. "If you say that in front of her, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Don't worry, that'll be our private name for her," Jay promised, lowering her shades to wink at him. Once his chortles subsided, she pulled on a more serious look. "Carth, why don't you trust anyone?"

Carth sighed, mirth forgotten. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do, so spit it out."

He swore. "If you aren't the most frustrating woman to deal with! Why do you even care?"

"Because we're working together. Might as well find out about each other."

"You haven't stopped to share anything."

Jay tossed the bag over the railing. "Alright, my name's Jay Robyn. I'm twenty...nine? Eight? Twenty-something years old, raised in an orphanage, never did get adopted, and I hate politics. There. Now you tell me five little things or two big things before I throw you after that bag."

Carth rolled his eyes. "Alright. I was married for twenty years, my favorite color is brown, I joined the Republic Armada at eighteen…um…I hate weddings."

"One more," Jay didn't quite order.

Carth racked his brain. "Oh, I'm an only child."

"You are so lame. That's all you could come up with?"

"Hey, I can't help it if I'm boring."

"Yes you can." Jay rose, glaring at all the noise. "So, friends?"

Carth gazed at her outstretched hand for a moment before shaking it firmly. "Friends."

"Aw, ain't you two cute!"

Carth sighed. "Stars help us, the munchkin's back!"

"Ha ha, geezer," Mission sniped back. "Love the shades, Jay. Is your hangover better?"

"I'm resisting the urge to shoot myself," she joked. "So, where to?"

"Zaalbar says the doctor wanted to see Carth's injury again," Mission replied as Bastila and the Wookie in question walked up.

Jay resisted the impulse to smack her forehead. "S***, I completely forgot about your arm."

"Don't worry about it. I feel fine."

"Oh, that's what everyone says and next thing that happens you're lying on the floor seeing spots," she ranted, grabbing Carth's unharmed arm and dragging him toward the medical ward. With a laugh, Mission began pushing.

"What are you doing?" Bastila demanded.

"Taking Carth to the doctor," Mission answered, patting his head. "He's very sick."

"I am not."

"Ignore him, Bassy, he's delusional," Jay advised.

Finally Carth insisted that he could get himself to the medical ward and did so. As the doctor examined the wound, Jay glanced around for something to keep her busy. Ooo...a locked door. She stepped over to the keypad and easily hacked her way in.

"All in all, you're healing just- hey! That area's for employees only!"

Jay paid no attention, focused on the men suspended in kolto tanks. She hesitantly entered the room, eyes glued to the nearest tank.

"I recognize those men," Carth mused. "They're Republic soldiers."

"You're...you're with the Republic?"

Bastila nodded. "Yes. You can trust us."

The man inside was hardly old enough to call a man, his youthful face scored with burns. Her throat dried up, her stomach convulsed; she thought she was going to be sick again.

"Well...when that Republic ship came down, people started bringing these soldiers in." The doctor shrugged. "I had to help. What choice did I have? At first I was worried that the Sith would find them and shut the clinic down, but so far my fears seem unfounded."

One of his arms was missing, his stomach covered with lacerations. His feet were twisted horribly. Jay's fingers brushed the cold glass. _Reki..._

"Will they survive?" Carth asked.

"No. I'm surprised that any of them are still alive."

She dropped her hand and backed away, closing the door. "You're secret's safe," she promised before leaving, refusing to look any of them in the eye. She stopped at the edge of the street, looking out at the speeders and skyscrapers without really seeing them. Her hands gripped the rail tightly, knuckles white.

_What has been seen cannot be unseen. D***it._

A gentle lumbering walk alerted her to Zaalbar's presence, but she didn't look at him until he touched her shoulder. /Are you alright?/

Jay nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. C'mon, Zaalbar, let's get something to eat."


End file.
